The castle had seven walls
Connected by 21 halls
Each was bigger
And thicker than the last
And no one had breached them
In the people’s recollected past.
They felt so safe
They felt so sound
No one could molest them
In their big walled town.
The men at the gates
Were kind and sure
Wise in their judgment,
So none were admitted
except for the pure.
And so it was for many many years
That the town was spared
Many many tears.
But as is the case
For want of a nail,
It was the smallest
Of things that caused them
To fail.
The noble pile
Of ruble and rust
You see there all
Covered in dust…
Is a lesson
To the rest of us:
Never be so certain,
So sure of will,
That you can never suffer ill.
Live your life,
Be kind to all,
For tomorrow may be
Your turn to fall.
The arc of the universe is long, but through our choices we can bend toward good.